


New Position

by Catstaff



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Harmony & Co's Lyric Llama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:06:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22247575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catstaff/pseuds/Catstaff
Summary: Married couple Harry and Hermione are about to start as new professors at Hogwarts, and get a tour of those parts of the castle forbidden to the students. Hermione disapproves of something she sees on the tour, but Harry gets creative in keeping her from ranting about it.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 106
Collections: Lyric Llama





	New Position

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Harmony&Co's Lyric Llama, inspired by the lyrics _“Let’s go home and get stoned. We could end up making love instead of misery, go home and get stoned, ‘cause the sex is so much better when you’re mad at me.”_ **-Get Stoned by Hinder**. I don't own the song or Harry Potter, I just play with the characters for my own enjoyment and promise to put them back neatly when I'm done.

Mid-August of 2001, Harry Potter, the newest Defense teacher at Hogwarts, smiled at his wife, Hermione, the new History teacher, as they walked hand in hand down the corridor to their new quarters. Once they settled in, one of their new co-workers would give them a tour of those parts of the castle that they would have been barred from as students. They had a small bet going between them; Hermione thought they’d be familiar with at least a quarter of the ‘restricted’ areas, while Harry thought it would be more like half. Dinner and a movie, winner’s choice of where and what, rode on the tour.

Three years earlier, following the defeat of Voldemort, Harry realised he was tired of fighting, tired of being the one everyone depended upon to deal with trouble. He, Ron, and Hermione had been awarded the Order of Merlin and knew they didn’t truly need to return to school unless they wanted to. While Ron (probably knowing he wouldn’t make the required E or better in some of them) chose to take advantage of Kingsley Shacklebolt’s offer to sit his NEWTs for form’s sake and go straight into the Auror Academy regardless of the results, Harry decided to help with the Hogwarts rebuilding and then return to school for his final year before sitting his own NEWTs. As he’d said to Headmistress McGonagall when she’d asked, he knew what he didn’t want to do with his life, but he still needed to figure out what he wanted to do.

Naturally, this hadn’t sat well with either Ron or Ginny. Ron, miffed that neither his friend nor his sort-of girlfriend wanted to become aurors, got into a screaming argument with them at the Burrow, in which he accused them of being selfish, of abandoning him, and of having slept together during the time they’d been alone on the horcrux hunt. Ginny, who’d come to see what the fuss was about, heard that and promptly dove into the argument on her brother’s side, dramatically sobbing that Harry had cheated on her and this must be why he hadn’t returned to marry her and show her off at all the Ministry events she knew he’d been invited to. A furious Harry pointed out that Ron had abandoned them and not the other way around, and furthermore, he certainly hadn’t cheated on Ginny considering that he’d broken up with her at Dumbledore’s funeral, well before the horcrux hunt had even started. Oh, and if Ginny knew him at all, she certainly wouldn’t be expecting him to take her to Ministry events, as he preferred to avoid such things whenever possible. An even more livid Hermione pointedly whipped out her wand and cast _probare castitate_ , the purity-proving spell long favoured by old families to ensure that a new bride wasn’t possibly sneaking a cuckoo egg into their nest. She and Harry both glowed white, indicating their virginity. Ron and Ginny, however, both glowed red, much to Ginny’s embarrassment. 

Hermione, although not having intentionally caught the Weasley siblings in her spell, merely sniffed. “It seems we now know for sure who’s been cheating on whom,” she said pointedly, before turning and marching away. 

“Harry, I…” Ginny had started. 

He cut her off before she could get going. “It doesn’t matter now, does it, Ginny?” he asked, his voice sounding weary even to his own ears. “I broke up with you at Dumbledore’s funeral. What you chose to do since then has nothing to do with me.” He turned and followed Hermione, out of the Burrow and mostly out of the Weasleys’ lives. They still exchanged letters and small holiday gifts with Arthur and Molly, and periodically saw Bill and Fleur or George and Angelina socially. But that day killed Molly’s hopes of Harry and Hermione ever officially joining the Weasley family. 

Instead, after a quick trip to Australia to find Hermione’s parents and restore their memories – they weren’t best pleased by her actions, but understood she’d done the best she could to protect them from a threat they couldn’t hope to counter – they returned to the UK and split their time between Hogwarts for the rebuilding, and Grimmauld Place where the Grangers were living temporarily. When she’d sent them to Australia, Hermione had gone to an estate agent with a power of attorney and put her family home up for rent, offering a one-year lease as her parents would be ‘on sabbatical’ for that period of time. As the house hadn’t been rented immediately, the current tenants would be there until the first of October. 

With the amount of time they spent together without the threat of Voldemort looming over them or the need to walk on eggshells around the infamous Weasley tempers, Harry and Hermione finally realised their feelings for one another. By the time the Hogwarts Express left on the first of September, they were a couple. By Christmas, and with the elder Grangers’ blessing, they were engaged. They married a month after they graduated and decided together that they wanted to go into teaching. 

Professor McGonagall welcomed the idea but cautioned them that she couldn’t hire them before they were twenty-one, as the school charter required it. Hermione decided to spend the next two years studying for her ICW-standard Mastery in History, while Harry only needed to undergo a bit of testing for form’s sake to receive his Mastery in Defense from the ICW, as they took his experience against Voldemort into consideration. Now, both armed with their Masteries and of an age to teach, they’d returned to their alma mater as faculty. 

“Are you looking forward to this as much as I am?” Hermione asked as they shifted a few pieces of furniture in their sitting room to better accommodate the bookshelves they’d purchased. 

“Yes,” Harry told her. “And I’m glad you pushed me into running the DA back in fifth year. If I hadn’t, I don’t think teaching would have ever been on my radar as a possible career, but I really enjoyed myself, teaching everyone back then. Especially when someone got a spell they’d been having trouble with, just seeing their face light up when they finally managed it, you know?” 

Hermione smiled affectionately. “I do,” she agreed. “Although you’re much better at teaching the practical than I’ve ever been. I tend to get too bogged down in the theory, which is why I always had trouble teaching you and Ron anything back in the day. It’s one reason I decided to go for my History Mastery, well, that and I figured Hogwarts would be better served by someone taught to ICW standards instead of someone who’d been taught only by Binns. I think I’ve learned how to make the lectures interesting. And you’re in a good position for Defense, as there’s not nearly as much theory needing taught in it as in Charms or Transfiguration.” She stepped back to inspect the placement of the bookshelves and gave a satisfied nod, then pulled a couple of shrunken cartons from her handbag, enlarged them, and levitated the books within onto the shelves. 

Harry pulled out his own shrunken box of books; while not the voracious reader that his wife was, he did have a shelf full of Tom Clancy novels that he enjoyed, along with his personal guilty pleasure of muggle fairy tales. He had a beautifully illustrated collection from the Brothers Grimm, the Burton version of _Arabian Nights_ , the complete works of Hans Christian Anderson, and all twelve of Andrew Lang’s _Colour Fairy Books_. In addition, he had _Quidditch Through the Ages_ , _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ , and several defense books that he found useful for his lesson plans. “True enough,” he said as he shelved them in the space she’d left empty for his use. “Are you almost done?” 

Hermione giggled at seeing his two shelves of books next to her eighteen. “I am. I know we could have let the house-elves do this, but I prefer arranging my books myself, you know? I don’t mind so much letting them put away my clothes and stuff, but even though I know they enjoy the work, I still feel guilty about letting them do everything for me.” 

“I know.” Harry kissed her gently, then more enthusiastically. And then sighed when he heard a knock on the door of their suite. “I guess it’s time for the tour.” 

“True, but I’m sure we’ll find time later,” Hermione said with a suggestive smile before she opened the door. “Professor Sprout, hello!” 

“Hello, Hermione, Harry,” the older woman replied. “And it’s Pomona – we are colleagues now, after all.” 

“In that case, hello, Pomona,” Harry said. “Hopefully we’ll get used to that soon. I take it you’re our tour guide? We’ve a bet on as to how much we’ve already seen of what you’re about to show us.” 

Pomona Sprout chuckled. “Somehow, I’m not surprised. If any students found their way into some of the restricted areas of the castle, it’d be a tossup between you and the Weasley twins. Anyway, I thought the first stop would be the kitchens…” 

“Directly below the Great Hall, accessed via the same stairs that lead to the Hufflepuff dorms,” Harry and Hermione chorused, grinning. “Tickle the pear in the painting and it turns into the door handle.” 

Pomona laughed. “Right, well, that’s one of the four areas you aren’t supposed to know about. I guess we can skip it, though, since you not only know where it is, but how to get in.” She led them down the corridor, pointing out the suites belonging to the other teachers except for the Heads of House. At the end of the corridor, she pointed to a painting of Ancient Greek athletes crowned with olive wreaths. “Have you seen this one before?” 

Harry shook his head after exchanging a glance with Hermione. “No, we haven’t.”

“Ha! One for us, then,” Pomona said with a grin. “The regular staffroom is, as you know, on the second floor, and is where most of us relax in between classes because it’s fairly close to most classrooms, saving only Astronomy and Potions. This, however, is the staff recreation suite, which we often use in the evenings or on weekends when we’re not on patrol duty. Light the torch,” she added, speaking to the painting. 

The athletes bowed and the painting swung open, revealing a large room full of squashy armchairs, overlooking the Black Lake. Doors opening off the room revealed a small but well-stocked bar, a warded dueling platform, what looked like an artists’ studio, and a swimming pool. “Oh… wow…” Hermione looked awed, although slightly disapproving at the alcohol. She didn’t say anything, though, and they headed back and down to the Great Hall. 

“You most likely won’t have anything to do with this room until after you’ve been here a few years,” Pomona said, “although I suspect Minerva and Filius are already looking ahead to retirement with the thought that you two will end up as either Head and Deputy or possibly even co-Heads, so you might as well get a good look now.” She led the way through the anteroom where the firsties waited for sorting, and where the Tri-Wizard champions had gathered after the Goblet of Fire chose them, back in 1994. A simple door hidden in the paneling opened to a staircase up, which in turn led to the room containing the Hogwarts ward stone. “Most of the time, it’s only the Head or the Deputy that has anything to do with the wards,” she explained, “but every year the four heads of house as well as the Head and Deputy will inspect the wards together, something Minerva started after Albus passed. It seems that he’d not been as diligent as he ought to have been about checking the wards annually, and she found several weak spots that she needed help to fix. With six of us checking, we figure we’re less likely to miss something, you know?” 

“That makes sense,” Harry agreed as they left again. “So, what’s left? The secret greenhouse?” 

Hermione looked at Harry in confusion as Pomona fake-pouted. “Aw, you know about that? Did you find it yourself or did the Weasley twins lead you there?”

Harry laughed. “Neither, it was Neville who found it and told me about it.” 

“Hmmph! Well, I do have some fertilising to do, so I’ll just let you show the place to your wife,” Pomona said with a grin. “See you in the morning, you two!” She headed off in the direction of Hagrid’s pumpkin patch. 

“Secret greenhouse?” Hermione asked. “Why is there a secret greenhouse? Is what’s grown there too dangerous even for seventh year students to handle?” 

As she fired off her questions, Harry led her down the path to the greenhouses and turned off it before reaching Greenhouse One. She blinked at seeing a small greenhouse nestled close to the castle wall, with a sign over the door identifying it as Greenhouse 0.4. 

She chuckled at the sign but shook her head. “I can’t believe I’ve never spotted this before,” she said. 

“Notice-me-not charm directed at anyone eighteen and under,” Harry said. “Not a very strong one, though, so if you found the place, say by running into it, you’d be able to find it again. Which is how Neville found it, actually, chasing Trevor, and he showed it to me as being somewhere private to snog since there weren’t ever any students hanging about. Well, except for him and Hannah, of course, but since I had the map and could scout private spots for us pretty easily, I left it for them to use as they pleased without us being competition for time there.” 

“So what does Pomona grow in here anyway?” Hermione asked, pushing open the door. And then she stopped, her jaw dropping and her eyes growing hard. “Seriously? A Hogwarts professor has an _entire bloody greenhouse_ for _pot_?!?” She whirled on her husband. “And you _knew_ about it?” She drew in a breath, ready to start ranting. 

But Harry knew the signs and his own voice hardened a bit. “Not here, Hermione,” he said firmly. “United front in public, remember? You want Skeeter or some other lurker selling the story of our pending divorce to the Prophet?” He tugged her back into the castle and towards their suite, pausing to kiss her forcefully every time she tried to say something. 

Hermione knew Harry was right, which just annoyed her further. And his kisses… Merlin, he knew just how to distract her, which perversely increased her anger as well as raising her desire. By the time they reached their suite, she was breathing hard and not from the exertion. She slammed the door behind them and stared up into her husband’s face. “What in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing?” she challenged him. 

“I thought I was stopping you from going on a rant throughout the entire castle,” he retorted. “Our quarters have silencing charms up.” 

“Is that so?” She grabbed his tie with both hands, pulling him down to kiss him just as forcefully as he’d kissed her. As her tongue danced with his, her hands moved to pull his shirt open, tearing away the buttons and raking her nails lightly down his chest. He groaned into her mouth as her nails grazed across his nipples.

Breaking the kiss, he simply shoved her blouse and bra up to her chin as he bent down to close his lips around one full breast. His hands slid from her waist to cup her breasts and hold them together as he flicked his tongue teasingly into her cleavage before sucking firmly on the other taut nipple. 

She gasped in pleasure, her head falling back as her hands fumbled with his belt. Unfastening it at last, she shoved his trousers and pants down to fall around his knees, freeing his erection to her questing fingers. Her thumb swirled lightly over the head as her other hand cupped his balls. “Need you…” she panted out as she kissed his neck. 

His hands dropped to her legs, lifting her skirt to her waist. One hand dipped between her thighs and he smiled wickedly. “Your knickers are soaked,” he whispered, tearing the flimsy garment from her body. “Wrap your legs around me.” He cupped her bum with both hands, lifting her up as she complied and helped guide his cock into her slick passage. Holding her up against the door, he thrust steadily until her cries alerted him she was on the verge of climax. 

She wrapped her arms around him, hanging on tightly enough to gouge his shoulders with her nails as he pounded her against the door like a scene from The Godfather. She braced her feet against his bum as she met his thrusts with her own, her breath exploding into little mewling cries. “Yes… yes… oh… please… Har-REEEE!” 

He strained forward with a harsh grunt as he felt her coming apart in his arms, his climax triggered by her own. For a long moment he leaned into her against the door, then shifted his grip on her bum and shuffled to the nearest chair, turning around and falling into it without letting go of her. He buried his face in her neck, kissing her softly and reveling in the scent of her skin and hair. 

As she caught her breath, she lifted one hand to caress his cheek. “Why haven’t we done that before?” she murmured. 

He gave a breathless chuckle. “I guess we just never thought of it? Or maybe I never annoyed you enough before?” 

Hermione frowned at that. “Well, I don’t like that Professor Sprout is growing pot, of all things. I mean, the liquor collection in the teachers’ recreation area is one thing, even if I don’t completely approve, but at least it’s legal.” 

“I found out pot is legal in the wizarding world,” Harry countered. “It helps with nausea, reduces seizures from certain forms of epilepsy, and has a few other medical uses as a potion ingredient. And if someone otherwise stressed out over whatever is going wrong in their life can relax with the help of a ‘special’ brownie or a couple of hits of a joint, why not let them?” He grinned mischievously. “Maybe you ought to try it sometime. 

“Really?” she huffed, but she was grinning all the same. 

“Really,” he said. “Oh, by the way, since I did know two of the places, I won the bet. How about that curry place in Manchester you like so much and then Pearl Harbor for the movie, next week before school starts?” 

“Sounds good to me,” Hermione said with a smile. “And now that we’ve christened the sitting room of our new quarters, perhaps we should do the same with the bedroom?” 

“Sounds like an excellent idea to me,” Harry agreed. Kicking his trousers and pants the rest of the way off, he carried her into the bedroom and shut the door.


End file.
